Dragon Song
by wildegreenlight
Summary: September 1, 2017: Sometimes no matter how much you prepare, you're just not quite ready to let go.


**A/N: This one shot is a little something I cooked up for EPILOGUE DAY! It is full of my favorite things: fluffy Romione sweetness, Romione flirting, and Ron being the best dad ever! In my heart, I have been with them on the platform today! All was well. (Also, the dragon in this story is very much real and lives at my house.)**

It was not unusual for Hermione to wake up early; she rarely even needed the alarm; it was set more out of habit than necessity. What was unusual was for her to wake to an empty bed. Her sleepy hand met nothing but disappointingly cold sheets as it searched in vain for her husband. She rolled over to check the time. Could she have overslept on such an important day? They **had** gone to bed rather late, and she **had** slept fitfully for most of the previous week, so it was not an altogether impossible scenario.

3:38

Ok, she had most definitely not overslept, and for a moment she breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. _Wait. Where's Ron?_ She felt a vague sense of unease. It had been years since she had woken to find him out of bed. He didn't work odd hours anymore, the nightmares had long faded for them both, and the kids were way past the days of waking them in the middle of the night.

 _The kids._ Had she been so knackered that she had missed one of them needing something? Rose had been characteristically unphased by the idea of starting Hogwarts, _but nerves may have set in at last._ Not wanting to leave Ron to handle it alone, _not that he couldn't_ , Hermione got up and donned her robe before heading down the hall toward Rose's room.

She found the door closed and could not make out any noise coming from inside. _Could be a silencing charm...trying not to wake Hugo_. With the quiet gentleness of practiced mums everywhere, she eased the door open, surprised to find her daughter fast asleep and her husband nowhere in sight. While she was relieved to know that Rose was apparently fine, she was even more confused as to where Ron might be.

Deciding to check the kitchen first _important events do tend to make him hungry_. She chuckled at the memory of their wedding morning. He had dispatched nearly a dozen eggs and more bacon than should be consumed in a year before Harry had shown up to take him to the Burrow. And then, when they had checked in to St. Mungo's for Rose to be born, her bag had been packed with nappies and blankets while his had been packed with roast beef and potatoes.

She found the kitchen empt;. it was exactly as she had left it before going to bed, complete with a small bag of goodies for Rose to take with her on the train. Ron had packed that himself, making sure to stock it with all of her favorites. Hermione had a strong suspicion that there was also a fair sum of money included as well, just in case she wanted to buy something from the trolley.

As she turned to leave, a faint sound caught her attention. At first it was difficult to place, but as she studied it, she decided it was music. Following the sound, she noticed light coming from the door of the small room which she and Ron shared as an office. She found him, head resting on the back of his worn, black swivel chair, clutching the origin of the whimsical musical sound. Held in his large hands, resting against his chest, the small patchwork fabric dragon looked especially tiny. Hermione knew the toy immediately, even though she could not properly remember the last time she had seen it.

"Do you remember what you told me when you bought it?" If Ron was startled by her question, he gave no indication.

" 'Course I do," his voice, worn with lost sleep and emotion still contained the warmth and humor that she loved so much, " _If we can survive riding a blinking dragon outta Gringotts, we can handle one little baby_."

Hermione crossed the room and sat across his lap, wrapping an arm across his shoulders.

"I had been driving myself mental, worrying that we weren't ready, and then you came home with this," she ran her fingers fondly over the faded back of the toy dragon, "the first thing you ever bought for Rose."

He looked up at her with wet eyes, "Now I'm not so sure."

"I think we've done an excellent job. Rose is such a confident, happy child. Even if her father does try to sneak her extra sweets when they think her mum isn't looking."

He laughed then, pulling Hermione closer to him, "She is pretty great, but that's not what I meant."

"I think I understand, want to talk about it?"

"I guess. It's just this letting go, I never thought it would be this hard. I mean...kids go to Hogwarts, that's what they do. I remember how I felt about it, but I never thought about how mum and dad felt. I can't imagine that it hurt them to see me leave as much as it hurts us to...ya know?"

"Well, to be fair, by the time they sent you, they were probably much more used to it than we are."

"Yeah, I've considered that."

"And honestly, I've had the same thoughts. At least we know what she's getting in to, my parents sent me off blind, into a world completely unknown to them. I don't think I could do that."

"Well, if I haven't said it lately, I sure am glad that they did," he kissed her gently, and she hummed in agreeance. When she pressed herself closer to his chest, the toy dragon was squeezed in between their bodies causing it to release its melodic lullaby.

Chuckling softly, Hermione pulled back to look at the interruption, "Where did you find this anyway? I haven't seen it for years."

"It was on top of Rose's trunk. I thought you put it there."

"Hmmmm...Rose must have packed it. Oh, Ron, she must be more nervous than we thought!" Rose Weasley was definitely not the type of child to typically be overly sentimental or nostalgic.

"We'll just have to put on a brave face for her tomorrow."

"Of course! You know she's going to be fine, don't you dear?"

"Isn't that my line?" For the past month he had been the one to soothe his wife's nerves as she checked and rechecked her lists for all the things that needed to be done before their daughter's departure, the one to reassure her that Rose would be safe and happy, the one to remind her that she would never have to battle giant chess boards or basilisks.

"Isn't that what we do? We stagger our breakdowns so that they are never at the same time. I've had all summer, it's your turn."

"Fair enough. I know _she_ will be fine, I'm just gonna miss her."

"Me too. But think of all the fun she will have. All the new friends she will make."

"That's kinda the problem innit? What if she likes it there more than she likes it here?" He made an exaggerated pout, but Hermione knew him well enough to know that he was using it to mask his very real fear.

"No matter how much she likes it, this will always be home for her, that will never change. No matter how many friends she makes, you will always be her dad. She loves you. I think our only real concern should be," she touched his nose with the end of her finger, "keeping her away from adorable little boys with dirt on their noses."

"Bloody hell! I hadn't even thought of that! Not helping, Hermione!"

"Sorry, love, poor choice of jokes. Come on, put Rose's dragon back where you found it and come to bed." She kissed his forehead as she stood up, motioning for him to follow.

"Ok, but I think it's too late to go back to sleep."

"I said bed, not sleep."

Before Ron could form a playful retort, Hermione had already disappeared around the corner. Standing quickly, he looked down at the dragon: a very tangible reminder of the last twelve years of this life. Years that had been far better than he could have ever imagined when he was that dirty-nosed eleven year old boy who boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. _That_ Ron Weasley would have thought speaking directly to a stuffed toy was nutters, but that is exactly what _this_ Ron Weasley did, earnestly and unabashedly.

"Look after her, ok?"


End file.
